


The Unlucky Ones

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Infinity War Fix It [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: Everyone works through survivor's guilt in their own way.





	The Unlucky Ones

Discussing strategies and Thanos' training standards was about as exhausting as actual training. Natasha found Steve in one of the palace rooms overlooking the gardens, but he had the thousand yard stare of seasoned combat veterans. It was likely that the room just gave him an excuse if someone was looking for him. She didn't care about those kind of excuses, and he would at least know that. Slipping into the room, she tucked herself in beside him, glad that she had at least removed the Dora Milaje armor that she had started wearing instead of nanomesh and tactical vests. She was feeling less and less like a displaced Avenger lately, and more and more like an actual citizen of the world. She wasn't a citizen of Wakanda, but the armor helped her feel as though she belonged somewhere. The remaining Dora warriors understood that need to belong, especially when she haltingly explained the Red Room and their training standards. It had certainly been odd to have Nebula nod along with her as if it was commonplace.

Steve didn't exactly startle when she curled up against his side, only slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Hey."

"It's been draining, huh?"

"Everything always is, lately," he muttered.

"Are you avoiding the Dora training because of Anathi?" Natasha asked, giving him a shrewd look.

He snorted and shook his head. "I don't want her showing off to get my attention and then get hurt."

"You have your thing about brunettes that kick serious ass," Natasha joked, nudging him. "Peggy, Bucky..."

"So you _did_ know about Peggy!"

"Well, yeah. I only asked who she was because I meant who was she to _you._ Was it because of how important she was to SSR and then SHIELD, or was it really something more. You know history's always had rumors about you and her, or you and Bucky if people were more open minded..."

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "As if this century is the only one that invented sex."

Natasha chuckled along with him, then kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry about Bucky," she whispered, voice hoarse.

He tightened his arm around her shoulders. "And for you, too." He gave her a sad smile. "You know, the times we visited here, I kept telling him to work up his nerve to talk to you. Fiesty ladies are absolutely his type of lady."

"I'd like to think we could've been happy. Happier than with Bruce, anyway." Her laughter was bitter. "So I tell myself."

"I'm sorry that didn't work out."

"You've said that before."

"I still mean it."

"It's..." She sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady and comforting under her ear. "This is what I wanted, really. Someone to talk to, hold me, let me pretend to be normal for a while. And honestly, I thought he deserved better than me but I could make it work." Her breath hitched. "I didn't want you to see the worst of me, you know? You saw me as this good person, and I had to keep that even as I tried to hold everyone together so hard..." Tears slipped out beneath her eyelids. "But I guess I wasn't enough. Not for Bruce, anyway. But with Bucky... We're the same, essentially. Broken to pieces and rebuilt in different ways. The darkness is always going to be there, but that doesn't mean we're part of it anymore."

Steve kissed the top of her head. "I don't think that I would ever think that of you now. It was different before. Not because of _you,_ but it was the whole SHIELD thing. Not belonging. Not knowing who I was outside of the uniform, what I was meant to do. Same as you, really. If I'm not the job, who am I?"

"But there's always a job," Natasha murmured.

"Yeah. The world is still messed up. Especially now."

"Especially now," Natasha echoed sadly.

"Is it bad that I wonder who the unlucky ones really are? Is it the ones that are gone, or us, that survive and have to remember them?" he asked her, voice breaking.

"No. That's survivor's guilt talking. I get that too, still."

"Never goes away," Steve sighed.

"Nope," Natasha replied, popping the P in the word. She snuggled in a little tighter and Steve tightened his hold on her. "Is it wrong that I _do_ want in on that probable suicide mission?"

Steve snorted. "If it is, then I'm just as wrong. I still want in on that."

"Two assassins, a super soldier, probably a trigger happy raccoon with a gun fetish..." Natasha started laughing, almost hysterically. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"It's not like the rest of the team wouldn't go with us."

"The team. You mean Avengers."

"I think it's safe to say we're all Avengers now."

"Large team," Natasha commented neutrally.

He let out a long breath. "Yeah. But ours. Our family, such as it is."

They remained silent for a long while, and soon heard the pitter-click of said trigger happy raccoon. "Well, aren't you a cuddly bunch," he groused.

"Want in on the snuggling?" Steve asked, turning to face Rocket. Natasha lifted her head to take in the weary set of Rocket's shoulders, the knife he kept strapped to his thigh even though there were no threats in the palace and no word from outer space regarding Thanos.

"The Lightning Bug wanted me to let you know that they heard from his ship. The other Asgardians. So there'll be more survivors."

"You definitely want in on the snuggling," Natasha commented. "Pick a side."

Rocket huffed but made his way over to Steve's other side. "No offense, Red," he said to her as he sat down, voice subdued and quiet. "This one's just built a little more like Quill."

The trio swapped stories of their fallen comrades until long after the sun set and there was nothing to see in the garden. There didn't have to be; that wasn't the point of sitting there, anyway.

***

Nebula stood in the doorway of the room that she had been assigned and swallowed. It wasn't nerves, no. That would imply weakness, and she couldn't be weak. With Thane hopefully still imprisoned or condemned to a pile of ashes, she was the last of Thanos' children. She couldn't be weak. She couldn't have _feelings,_ she shouldn't _care._

The room itself was neat and clean, relatively unadorned. The walls were an off white color that reminded her of aitan eggs, with a geometric pattern in brick red in a strip beneath the ceiling and above the floor. There was a tribal mask on one wall, long and thin, with a fringe of feathers. White dots patterned the area around the eyes and mouth of the mask, bright against the burnt ochre color of the polished wood. It almost made her think of her optic implants, the way the metal curved across her cheekbone.

"Is it not good enough?"

Whirling around to face the Queen, Nebula internally cursed herself for not shutting the door. Maybe she was weak after all.

"Do you need a better room?" Shuri insisted.

"It's... nice. Larger than I'm used to." At her curious look, Nebula bit back the urge to snap at her. "I had a narrow berth in the training house. Then I was on ships, and they don't exactly have space to waste on a bedroom, let alone for someone like me."

Shuri nodded thoughtfully. "Would you feel more comfortable in a smaller room, then?"

"Do you even have them?" Nebula scoffed.

She shrugged negligently. "I'm sure we can find something that would suit you. Maybe a closet?"

Nebula narrowed her eyes at the Queen, not sure if she was making fun of her. After a moment, she decided that Shuri wasn't like that. She had apparently spent all day with Rocket, Tony and Thor pulling apart weapons and trying to reverse engineer things, then Thor and someone else named Bruce started to work on energy systems. It wasn't her fight, not really, but she was taking this as a personal mission. Perhaps that made her feel better, given the devastation that had hit her planet.

"I hear there are closets as big as rooms," Nebula said finally. "I don't want that."

Pressing her lips together for a moment, she nodded and then took Nebula's arm. "I think I have a place you may be comfortable in."

They wound up in her lab. It was too large, too open, too difficult to be easily defensible. Nebula was about to say as much when she deviated past the work space to the supply closet full of electronic trinkets and tools and such. Tony probably would have known the use for it all and lit up with glee at the thought of getting his hands on it. He and Rocket were entirely too cheerful when talking about deconstructing and then reconstructing weapons. Nebula rather preferred Thor's thoughtful silence.

Once the lower shelves were emptied, Shuri removed the shelving itself. Nebula stood there awkwardly, not sure if she should help or not. This was a _Queen,_ after all, and they were supposed to be above such things. But this one dove in with both hands, not seeming to mind the oil or grime getting onto the pristine white of her gossamer overshirt.

"Is this better? I think one of my old projects is working enough to have a humming noise, and maybe that would sound like a ship's engine enough to help you sleep."

Nebula blinked. She could curl up on the floor, the narrow space enclosed enough to ensure that she wouldn't have nightmares of being trafficked or exposed enough to be taken down. As she did that, Shuri wandered off and returned with a number of woven blankets. "Oi," she called, shaking her head at Nebula with fond irritation. "The floor's hard, you know. Take one or two as a mattress, then you can use the others as blankets. And even better, they can create energy fields for defense."

Her breath caught as she scurried out of the space. "Is there danger here?" she asked, eyes growing wider.

"Only in your mind. In the memories you carry. That we all carry, really," Shuri sighed, handing over the blankets. "I keep these here for if I get cold, but I've slept in the lab a few times, too. I don't mind if you keep them or stay here."

"This is your space." Nebula looked over at the other counters, full of random parts and cobbled together models. "You work here."

"So don't break anything," she huffed, rolling her eyes. Her gaze dropped when she realized what she said. "I told my brother that all the time." She dropped to the floor in an ungainly heap, staring at the pattern in the tiles. "He's gone now."

"I didn't have any brothers I liked," Nebula said, hesitance filing away the usual sharp edges in her voice. "I hear yours was kind."

She looked up, eyes shining. "He was an idiot, like all big brothers." She smiled wistfully. "Should've asked Nakia to marry him like I told him to. They belong together."

"Another warrior," Nebula commented when Shuri fell silent.

"Stubborn. But wonderful, so full of heart."

"My sister was like that," Nebula rasped. She busied herself putting the blankets into place as a pallet, then backing into the crawl space in the closet. She didn't comment on Shuri's tears, the way her shoulders hitched, the way her breath sputtered as she pulled herself back together.

"I'm angry," she said suddenly, startling Shuri. "Because if I'm not, I'm sad. All the time. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't important enough. But I'm the unlucky one still alive, when everyone else they said was better than me is dead. So I'm angry. I'm angry, and I can use that. I can make someone suffer for the things I've been through. I can make _Thanos_ suffer."

"Because then you're doing something," Shuri said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Nebula nodded solemnly at her. "And you've never had a chance to just be."

"There's no such thing."

"And when you kill Thanos?" she asked in curiosity.

"There's always work for the Ravagers. Or other mercenary groups in the galaxy."

"Not staying still."

"It's not safe."

"What would it take for you to feel safe?"

Nebula blinked and pondered the question. "I don't think there is anything," she said finally. "I almost felt that before. But my sister is dead."

Shuri nodded. "We don't have the heart shaped herb that my people hold sacred. It's said to give power to those that take it, and it's usually by the King of Wakanda. Technically, I shouldn't be Queen right now, but the tribes are all in chaos, and it was easiest to simply let me have the throne. Young as I am, it gives continuity and some kind of stability for the people that are left."

"Thanos said his purpose was to cleanse the universe, to save its resources."

"Which is a lie," Shuri said, jaw tightening. "This does nothing but create more chaos, build up more upheaval. This doesn't save anything or anyone. It just gives him the illusion of doing good. His argument is so flawed, it's insulting."

"Which is why he needs to die."

"Knock, knock," Tony called from the doorway to Shuri's lab. "Can I join the coffee clutch?"

"The what?" Nebula snarled. She pulled one of the blankets over her curled limbs and nearly activated the force field.

Tony sighed and rubbed his cheek. "I can't sleep. It's stupid, I'm nervous. Pepper's coming, and I haven't wanted to know how bad things are in New York, but I'm sure FRIDAY will tell me if I ask-"

"Of course, Boss," FRIDAY chirped.

"-but I can't sleep. And my brain is too fried to take things apart without Rocket and Thor."

"Where are they?"

"Not a clue." He plopped himself down on the floor near Shuri but out of Nebula's reach. "I like the cubby." He turned to Shuri. "Should we make a pillow fort? I used to make those at MIT when I was smashed out of my mind and high as a kite. Seemed like a good idea at the time!" he added at Shuri's incredulous stare. "I had even less self preservation then!"

"You're tiring," Nebula declared, pushing the blanket aside. "And I doubt you could make a proper defensive fort."

He blinked at her. "It's not for defense. It's for snuggling. Relaxing. You know..." He trailed off at her blank stare. "Oh. All the stuff that asshole wouldn't let you do as a kid. Got it."

"We have inbound on the Asgardian vessel," FRIDAY announced suddenly. "They're contacting the security office right now."

Nebula rolled out of the closet and was on her feet in a defensive position. "We need to found out if they're who they say they are."

"Not everyone in the universe is trying to kill you!" Tony cried, exasperated.

"It can't hurt to check," Shuri murmured, climbing to her feet. "Perhaps you should be the security advisor when we're in space. You and Okoye can handle all the threats."

That seemed to mollify her. "I will plan. She has tactical experience and isn't too soft to use it."

Tony looked at Shuri as he stood. "Is our little murder Smurf making friends?" He shot Nebula an insouciant grin when she glared at him, then carried over to Shuri and her eye rolling. "Do you know any of the Asgardians?" The glare didn't change, so he simply crooked his arm out in Nebula's direction. "C'mon, let's go make some more friends. I'm sure they'll help us kill your Daddy Dearest."

"Are you simply incapable of not cracking jokes at inappropriate times?" Nebula snarled.

The grin didn't falter. "I used to say I'm allergic to being serious," Tony replied, his tone deceptively light. "But there is all kinds of armor, and not all of it is visible. People only see what you let them, right? You want them to see anger. I want them to see the billionaire playboy philanthropist. She wants them to see a Queen that is as capable as leaders three or four times her age." His gaze hardened slightly, and Nebula felt comfortable to rest her hand on his arm, however the move felt awkward. "We do what we need to do to survive. I've seen this coming, and I couldn't prevent it. But we're getting our pieces together in some kind of a plan, and we're going to take it to him. We were close before, and this time we're going to make it work."

"Hopefully we can bring back our dead," Shuri murmured, gesturing for them to leave her lab. "We'll go to the security office." A bead on her bracelet lit up. "They're asking for me now anyway."

It felt like everyone was coming back together after being blasted apart. The thought made Nebula nervous, and she ruthlessly tamped that down. The people here didn't ask to be the survivors in Thanos' awful plans, but here they were anyway. They were making the best of an awful situation, and it was at least a sentiment she was used to.

Depending on the condition of the Asgardian ship, the next step was to finish the conversion of Earth airplanes and shuttles, then head for the weapons depot. Nebula refused to think of what would happen after that. One step at a time. One moment. They would make sure Thanos was the truly unlucky one, however long it took.


End file.
